


Aiding Atlas

by Jetainia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Luna is the protector of Hogwarts students, Picnics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:22:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23783830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jetainia/pseuds/Jetainia
Summary: Atlas may be holding up the world by himself, but Luna will not let her fellow students do the same.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	Aiding Atlas

Luna had always lived on the fringes of society. Even when she was young, her parents would take her on expeditions to search for creatures others considered imaginary. Her mind was shown how to expand, to soak up information, to readily accept possibilities that may at first seem like nonsense. Her mother taught her of science and magic, of hypothesis and deduction. Her father taught her of shrubs and trees, of creatures and caring. She learned the art of writing from both parents—each with their own style and emphasis. How to state facts and share information along with speculation.

Science and magic killed Dione Lovegood while Luna and her father were down at the stream watching and recording the fish they saw. They were too late to save her—even if they had been closer, there was nothing that would have been able to save Dione. Her death taught Luna more even as she grieved for her mother. 

Luna learnt how to care for a household in shambles; how to cook simple meals when her father could only stare into a void. She learnt how to push through misery and continue on. Somehow, she and her father stumbled through the days and figured out how their lives would keep going without the warm, fierce presence of Dione Lovegood.

Sitting on the Hogwarts Express, Luna once again wished for her father’s safety and health. She hated leaving him alone while she went to school, but Xenophilius had refused to keep Luna from school just because her doing so would leave him alone in a house full of memories. This would be her fourth year leaving him behind, her fourth year of Hogwarts. 

She made her way up to the carriages alone, a serene bubble of calm between the nerves and excitement around her from all the other passengers disembarking. The thestrals waited patiently for students to climb into the carriages before trotting up to the castle. Luna ran her hand along the length of one—ignoring the looks she so often got when she did something ‘strange’. 

Thestrals held no fear for her. No matter their skeletal appearance and their relationship with death, she loved them just the same. They were calm creatures, always around to comfort the grieving. She considered them to be guardians and caretakers of the dead and lost, only visible when they were needed—such as after a person had witnessed a death.

She noticed now, the boy staring at them in utter shock and slight horror. Luna knew who he was, of course, and she also knew why he was seeing them now. The boy who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders had seen death and registered it as such at the end of the previous school year. She had seen the articles speaking ill of him and ignored them—both she and her father were used to reading between the lines of the Daily Prophet, and indeed, any other publication.

He looked exhausted, like he had taken on Atlas’ burden by himself and no one had told him how bad of an idea that was. Luna hoped he let someone else hold it with him soon—or that he gave the burden back to Atlas, but from what she knew of him, that was unlikely. She couldn’t take the burden from him, but she could lighten it infinitesimally.

“I can see them too,” she reassured. “They’re thestrals, I think of them as guardians.”

His shoulders relaxed some, and she smiled. She may only have used a pinkie finger to help carry the burden, but it was something until he found others to help him hold it. Luna could only hope the world didn’t add to the load as it had the previous year. 

* * *

Within the first week, Luna could see Harry’s shoulders grow heavier and heavier with each new accusation and expectation piled on top of him. There were some who tried to help, she knew, but she suspected they tried in the wrong ways. There were people who blamed him for the death of Cedric Diggory, people who thought him mad due to his declaration that Voldemort was back, and others who thought he should have saved Cedric and killed Voldemort at the same time instead of ‘running away’.

The Ministry was trying to stomp Harry out, using Professor Umbridge as the foot. The school was simultaneously trying to ignore Harry and ridicule him. The Daily Prophet ran their smearing campaign without pause or obstruction.

Luna had never really known Harry Potter before this year, had never had cause to interact with him but she had noticed him. She watched all the students in Hogwarts, as one who lived on the outskirts often observed those within. She had seen him take on all the responsibility in her first year for the series of attacks that had happened, she had seen how he had struggled with the bestowed title of Heir of Slytherin.

Her second year, he had been pursued by an escaped convict who had managed to get inside Hogwarts without trouble. Third year, the Triwizard Tournament had happened and a boy only one year older than her had been thrust into a deadly competition pitted against people with far more experience under their belts.

There was no rest for Harry Potter, it seemed, and Luna could only sympathise. She couldn’t know what it was like to have the entire world looking at you, relying on you to save them, but it had been hard enough looking after her father after her mother had died. At least she had had her father when he managed to drag himself out of depression; Harry Potter had a pair of arguing friends that wanted the best but always seemed to go about it the wrong way.

This was proven within the first month of the school year when Hermione Granger called a gathering and announced that there would be an unofficial Defence Against the Dark Arts class led by none other than Harry Potter himself. Said leader looked entirely too surprised and agitated for Luna to think this had been his idea and she felt her own shoulders give a twinge of sympathy for the added weight that had just landed on Harry’s shoulders.

The exhaustion she could see in Harry made her decide that enough was enough. She would no longer watch from the sidelines as more expectations piled up. She got her chance that very day as Ron and Hermione went to the Three Broomsticks and Harry walked up to the Shrieking Shack where Luna was already sitting on a fallen log. 

“Hello, Harry,” she greeted.

Harry jumped slightly as he realised she was there. “Hi, Luna. Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

She waved a hand carelessly. “You didn’t. If anything, it seems as though I’ve disturbed you. Want to talk about it?”

He shrugged and kicked at the dirt at his feet. “Not really.”

“Okay.” Luna patted the bit of log next to her. “Do you want to join me here? There’s plenty of space and I have sandwiches and tea. I was planning on having a picnic here, and a picnic is always better with company.”

She smiled at him as he stared at her in slight shock before going about the business of pulling out her picnic supplies. There was no expectation in her offer; he could accept it or not, she wouldn’t add the weight of a picnic to his already mountainous burden. As such, she wasn’t surprised when he sat down next to her and let out a sigh when she handed him a steaming cup of tea and a cucumber sandwich. 

They ate and drank in silence, looking out over the landscape and the shack that stood shabbily in the middle. Luna loved the shack, she didn’t see it as a haunted place with ghosts who would sooner rip you apart than have a civilised conversation; Luna saw the shack as a protective space, keeping the ones society considered dangerous safe. After all, there had never been tell of anyone being hurt by whatever had inhabited the shack so many years ago when it had first been built; she strongly believed it had been a sanctuary for someone and hoped it would be again when it was needed.

At the end of it, Harry looked more relaxed than he had since she had seen him in the carriage up to Hogwarts. She smiled at him and packed up her basket. 

“I’m generally by the forest every Tuesday and Friday afternoon if you want to join me. I find it calming to spend a few hours away from the madness of the castle.”

Harry shook his head, “I don’t want to crash in on you all the time.”

“So don’t,” she said. “For one, I’ve invited you, so you won’t be crashing anything. Two, it’s nice to spend time with someone without expectations. You’re not the only one who’ll be appearing at random times at my picnics, Neville comes sometimes, as do some other people. It’s an open invitation, for you to accept or reject as you please, no expectations.”

The Tuesday following the Hogsmeade weekend, there was no Harry Potter, but Luna hadn’t expected there to be. Hannah was there though and the sound of Hannah’s needles clacking together was a lovely background as Luna painted. Luna had invited Hannah to her picnics in her first year when she had come across Hannah having an anxiety attack and had managed to help her get through it, they had both needed the calm at that point. 

Opening up her previously solitary picnics at the edge of the Black Lake and the Forbidden Forest had at first been a way to help people deal with the stress of the attacks that had been happening in Luna’s first year. People had kept coming after the attacks had ended, however, and Luna was happy to provide a calm place where there were no worries and one could be completely themselves without fear. Hannah had been the first, she most definitely wasn’t the last.

Friday saw Harry and Neville walking towards her together. She smiled and waved at them with a charcoal-smudged hand. Neville grinned back and plopped himself down on the blanket, helped himself to the thermos of tea and opened up the next book in the series he was making his way through. Harry shifted nervously before sitting down himself. 

He hadn’t brought anything with him, Luna noted. It wasn’t unusual for those coming for the first time to not bring anything to entertain themselves with. 

“Help yourself to whatever you’d like, Harry,” she said. “Would you like some paper and pencils? We also have some wool and needles if you want to knit or crochet, there’s a practice snitch in there somewhere, and I think we have some juggling balls as well.”

Luna had gained quite a collection of items to occupy and soothe a racing mind in the four years she had held her picnics. While the house elves provided the food, it was the picnickers who provided the entertainment. Most people who came wanted to leave something to help the next person who needed the quiet. The juggling balls had been from Oliver Wood when he had graduated two years ago. Cedric had handed her a calligraphy set the week before the Third Task and thanked her for the sanctuary she provided during the noise of the Triwizard Tournament.

“You’re also welcome to talk about anything bothering you, if you want,” Neville added, looking up from his book. “We’ll listen. It really helps to talk about things sometimes, and Luna’s a really good listener.”

Harry nodded and started digging through the trunk that held Luna’s collection. Luna watched him out of the corner of her eye and noticed when he hesitated over a shrunken keyboard. It had belonged to Terrence Higgs and he had given it to Luna after he graduated.

“There’s a training mode on the keyboard, if you want to learn,” she said, causing Harry to jump and flush with embarrassment.

“I don’t think you and Neville want to hear me murder the keyboard,” he said softly.

She shrugged, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her hair and incidentally rubbing some charcoal into it at the same time. “There’s also a silencing spell that makes the player the only one able to hear it. You can activate it by touching the rune with your wand. You’re welcome to play if you want to.”

“Which rune?” Harry asked and Luna smiled.

After pointing out the rune and showing how the keyboard worked—Terrence had given her a quick lesson when he had given it to her—she sat back and returned to her drawing. Neville grinned and continued reading as Harry carefully poked at the keys as they flashed for him.

* * *

When Professor Umbridge passed Educational Decree 24, Luna was approached by many students who wanted to know if her picnics counted as an organisation, society, team, group, or club and if the decree would stop the picnics. She saw in them the shadows that formed at the thought of losing their sanctuary. 

She assured each and every one of them that, as her picnics were not structured in any way and were instead merely a small gathering of people that changed every time, there was no need to worry. Luna did not care for Professor Umbridge, or her rules; the woman was causing more and more people to seek Luna out and she would not let them down.

Her picnics were gatherings of friends and did not require permission to continue. Luna was well-versed in facing obstacles; this decree, along with Professor Umbridge, was just one more along the road. 

It was Tuesday again, and Luna was joined by both Hannah and Harry. Luna rested against Hannah’s shoulder, staring out at the calm waters of the lake as Hannah knitted and Harry watched in fascination, idly fiddling with the keyboard. 

“How do you do that?” he asked at length.

Hannah grinned. “It’s pretty easy when you get the basics down pat. Would you like to learn?”

At Harry’s eager nod, Hannah flicked her wand at the trunk and summoned another set of needles and a ball of wool. She beckoned Harry closer and started taking him through the process of casting on.

Luna turned her attention from the lake to the two next to her and smiled softly. Yes, she thought, she would face down a thousand Umbridge’s for these people who needed a place far away from the responsibilities and anxieties of the real world.

The burden as heavy as Atlas’ she had seen weighing on him at the beginning of the year was lifted when Harry was sitting on a picnic blanket, picking away at notes or laughing as he dropped a stitch. He had learned how to share the burden, as well as how to set it down for an hour or two. She thought her mother would be proud of her; Dione Lovegood had taught her how to be strong and gentle and, in her death, how to ease other’s burdens and be there when others needed her.

If her only contribution to the world was a sanctuary away from it, Luna could be content with that. She closed her eyes and let herself drift on the sounds of clacking needles, patient words, and delighted laughter.


End file.
